가끔은
알지 못하던 진실을 알게 되었을 때
살점이 찢어 뜯겨 나가는듯한 고통이 찾아 온다.
정신을 차리고 돌아 봤을 땐
무엇이 중요한지 잊을 때가 있다.
그럴 땐 나는 뛰기 시작 한다.
앞만 보고 모든걸 놓고 뛴다.
헐떡이는 폐와 심장이
비로소 나는 살아 있다는 걸
깨닫게 해준다.
살아있는 이 감사함에
다시 한번 발을 내딛는다.
11.17.2021
Category: Uncategorized
Fire potato
a potato on fire rolls down the hill,
in the darkness of night sky, it is a shooting star.
what is there to lose, when we are already losing to ever faster speed of time.
better to rock and roll, bumping into things
and cracking things open, such as your heart,
so that it will shed all the dirty residues
and shine as the purest gem.
it hurts, it’s supposed to hurt.
don’t let go of that grip of your grit
and get on with it. see things for yourself.
good things are out there.
11.13.2021
Hits
you can do worse,
I’ve got nothing but my bare nuckles and spine,
but I’m fine taking more hits
so try your best
what’s there to lose now?
don’t don’t those eye away from darkness my dear
there ain’t no way getting out of this.
it’s a fistfight till dawn.
so do your worst.
10.30.2021
Apology
yes, my emotions is like color black,
worn off of cool blue, dreamy green,
energetic orange, outrageous red,
it bears the color black like wounds.
there are blind spots to color black
I forget some people don’t have black
when I touch them, it sizzles like
a white A4 paper touching leaflets of
stove fire
yes, it’s a self-pity
yes, I need to get over it already
yes, though I do apologize to you.
10.9.2021
Burn
It burns. It hurts. And it won’t stop.
like dynamite tip lit on unceasing spark
silently it continues its way down the spine
long submerged questions surface:
‘why did you leave’ – I wonder.
‘you don’t have it’ – I admit.
‘you don’t deserve’ -yes, yes. I know.
I thought I had spent enough tears
to mourn for youthful soul
perhaps I outlived my deadline.
perhaps this is a sign.
It’s been so cold. It’s been so bitter.
Perhaps I was long gone already,
just hoping for more.
Perhaps now is the time to let go.
It’s been a good run, no regret about it.
Now, leave while the going is good.
9.26.2021
Erudite
By happenchance, I opened the book
hidden under layers of aged dusts
encrypted sceneries, mysteries, chivalry
revealed as if they had been here all along
chewing on twigs of wise revelry
eloquently and delicately stylished
perhaps the breeze I felt on dusky evening
was once a scent from the long past unended
cheers to you, my old friend.
9.21.2021
Last one
The last one to leave is the one that bears the responsibility of the memory
You are the last shift at night cleaning up and closing the store for the next day
And when that next day comes, people will come to you asking, so how did it end? How did it go?
You might try your best to let them relive the moment, or you might not.
But don’t blame the ones who leave.
I am sure they had a good, honest, sincere reason to leave. Perhaps it was a serene calling.
And perhaps there is someone staring at your back, as you get up to leave this place too.
And I am sure, you will be remembered.
9.6.2021
Solace
When I woke up in the morning,
At the core of a petite bulb of candle light,
I reminisced the last day I saw you smile.
When I rode my bike,
I thought I saw a familiar figure swiftly brushing by in my periphery
that I mistook the Autumn air as your scent breezing by my face
When I read your essay scribbled on my tablet,
I felt my face warmly smiling,
A cozy sunset seemed to be taking a repose in my chest
How glad am I to have found you again.
9.4.2021
Foolish Brandish
You point your fingers at those who wave the flag at the topic of the mountain for all to see.
Poignantly, and supposedly wisely, you mutter yourself, “a real man wouldn’t waver their glory for all to see”
But that acerbic teeth clenching tells me there’s an acrimonious shadow brewing
Just for a moment to peak to strike at the chance to gain it all for yourself
So have you ever cared to notice
That the man’s mind is filled with nothing but remnants of what he dreamed for?
Empty your mind, and get busy working.
8.29.2021
Voice
Rise up, I say. Hell with the images. Today we rebel.
Fire in my head clears my vision, burning foggy chirps of sloppy excuses and fear.
It’s time to stir up some magic, I’d say; times is to be earned, grasped with coarse hands, squeezed like the milky juice of lemons.
Dare, once again, before swiveling up the guards against the storm to ride the tide and seize the moment of your dream.
The day is still bright, the air is breathable. Take your moment, or get busy giving it away.
8.23.2021
Ralph with Coffee 
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